The obvious benefit to Robert De Niro's recent professional huff-taking, of course, is that audience awareness of this film's borderline graveyard-slot release will he higher, and more buzz equals more bums on seats; fact. However, the downside is that the same audience will be far more critical as a result, expecting the venerated actor to have been defending the honour of some magnificent cinematic achievement, a modern parable and homily for our distracted 21st century mindset…
Y'know, instead of the blandly offensive mom-com*1 that Bobby sleepwalks through using the same clockwork demeanour that's seen him cash the cheques from threeMeet The Parents movies and voice an animated shark.
[ …Say what you like about Radio Times journalist Emma Brockes and her veiled intimation that The Intern is perhaps not De Niro's most challenging role, but she's got a great fall-back career in carpentry lined up, having hit the nail right on the fucking head without even trying… ]
On the surface, Nancy Meyers' gentle comedy has all the hallmarks of a classic chick-flick, and there's nothing at all wrong with that. Anne Hathaway does a more-than-respectable job of bringing us Jules, the 30-something, hugely successful founder of an online fashion-house*2, and despite my grumbling, De Niro does pretty much exactly what he's paid to do as the loveable widower seeking a fresh challenge in the world to stave off the boredom and atrophy of retirement. A supporting cast of ironically-bespectacled hipsters and comedically-aged fogeys provide the comic/melodramatic backdrop in equal turn, and for a short time, the film pootles along quite happily in first-gear.
Then after a while, it dawns on you that this isn't really aimed at the girls-night-in crowd, after all (it's certainly not aimed at the girls-night-out one, either). The central conceits of the film seem to be:
a) old people are hilarious because they need glasses and have no idea how the internet works,
b) young people are ghastly because they can't stop looking at their phones,
c) lots of crying with no real character development.
d) just know your fucking place, everyone.
And then, you really lose all grip (as does writer/director Meyers) on who this film is actually for. As a comedy which purports to be about bridging the generation gap, it's insulting to all ages, and as a thesis on the modern businesswoman, its politics are astounding…
Nominally attempting to juggle a home-life with working all hours in the office, Jules is surrounded by staff who either think she's a foul-tempered ogre (she isn't) or that she can't cope with running the business any more (she can), and a sub-plot trundles away in the background where she interviews a series of potential CEOs to take over the company management. Meanwhile, the screenplay punishes Jules further for daring to succeed by having her whiny, stay-at-home-husband conducting an ongoing affair with the stay-at-home-mother of their young daughter's schoolfriend, ostensibly as a subconscious reaction to having given up his own career while Jules flourished in hers.
All of this would be fine if Jules was allowed to put her foot down take control of either situation; it's how characters are built, after all. But the choice hanging around Jules' neck like a narrative albatross isn't a progressive one, it's just about Jules choosing which part of her life to let go of, ie:
a)focus on being the boss at work and abandon your marriage like a selfish bitch..., or
b)let The Man take over the business and go back to fetching your husband's slippers as you should be doing anyway, you selfish bitch, can't you see how unhappy you're making everybody..?
In the end she decides to run her own company and try to rekindle her marriage. This doesn't require any real change or development, it's what she was doing anyway. Jules' inaction has made the decision for her; she hasn't chosen both, she's actually chosen neither. For the second hour of this movie, Anne Hathaway gets to cry on Robert De Niro's shoulder, proving that all she really needed was a non-threatening father-figure to pat her on the head. The facade of professional and domestic fulfilment is barely concealing the film's underlying message:
"Just keep working your arse off and making a shit-ton of money surrounded by underpaid, vapid cretins and unpaid interns, because while it's brought you nothing but unhappiness so far, being able to buy a $400 juicer on a whim or doing Tai Chi in the park is the same as having a home-life…"
And at no point in the film, - at no fucking point - when De Niro's Ben has proved himself to be a fully capable office PA; when he steps in as Jules' driver after spotting her regular chauffeur drinking on the job; when he inexplicably (ie it's not explained) breaks into her mother's house with three colleagues to steal a laptop - committing an actual felony in order to save his boss the embarrassment of having to explain a mis-sent and rude e-mail; when he supports his boss through tears, tantrums and vomiting in a bin outside the pub; when he finally has a heart-to-heart in which they discuss her husband's infidelity in a way that only best friends can… at no fucking point is it even suggested that The Intern might start getting a paid-job out of all of this…
"Thanks for your time and for helping me get my life back on-track, fucker; now good luck paying the bills while I earn thousands of dollars a week cycling around the office for no fucking reason…"
And the sad part is that De Niro's absolute coasting throughout all of this (and his subsequent press-trail snarkiness) will take the rap for Nancy Meyer's lacklustre, morally bankrupt writing.
Doe-eyed, narcissistic capitalism masquerading as feminism, like a Ben Stiller movie tangled up with a Special K commercial. The Intern says it can make you feel good, but you'll be hungry again by the time you get back to your car.
Soul-food for the spiritually bulimic.
And yet, somehow, I can't outright hate it.
I just hate many of the things about it...
No, it isn't.
Just wait until it's on telly one Sunday night.
Well, I think I've touched that subject already ^^^
Make me unaccountably angry considering I didn't actually hate the film?
I think it probably does…
With the best will in the world, YES.
There isn't.
The Intern features a segment of Singin' In The Rain starring Debbie Reynolds, who is of course Carrie 'Leia' Fisher's mum. A real-life Queen Amidala, if you will.
*1 There's nothing wrong with moms watching films, of course, or indeed films for moms to watch. But this is one of those DVDs which will only be bought as an uninspired last-minute present for the matriarchal-elder in a family, probably with some chocolates. Ironically, the film is also artificially sweet but offers slightly less long-term sustenance…
*2 The open-plan office is full of perky, dynamic youngsters, 'movie-type' computer displays, design software which doesn't exist (the Apple logos do, of course), and an over-riding air of "well, I imagine this is exactly what it would be like, rather than a dark room full of misanthropic coders muttering curses at the visual-merchandisers who drop scraps of paper on the desk expecting an instant result on the website as if there's a magic fucking button on the keyboard which translates this scrawl…" I just get the impression that Nancy Meyers has bought some clothes online and spoken to a customer-service rep at some point, and feels this qualifies her to write a film about an e-commerce fashion house. Which y'know, is a bit like thinking you can write The Fast And The Furious after sitting in Kwik-Fit's waiting room for half an hour…
DISCLAIMERS:
• ^^^ That's dry, British humour, and most likely sarcasm or facetiousness.
• Yen's blog contains harsh language and even harsher notions of propriety. Reader discretion is advised.
• This is a personal blog. The views and opinions expressed here represent my own thoughts (at the time of writing) and not those of the people, institutions or organisations that I may or may not be related with unless stated explicitly.
Nightcrawler (second-pass)
Cert: 15 / 117 mins / Dir. Dan Gilroy
Dan Gilroy's Nightcrawler is the perfect movie for a second-pass viewing (my first review is here). Knowing what the plot holds means you can linger more over Robert Elswit's cinematography, which feels far more at home in the dark yet harshly-lit streets of Los Angeles than it ever does during the infrequent daylight scenes. You can also spend more time watching Jake Gyllenhaal's performance as Louis Bloom. His masterful performance.
Every awkward smile, nervous twitch and sideways glance creates a character who - crucially, in great cinema - acts like he doesn't know he's being watched. The sequences alone with Louis in his apartment are when we get the closest to the core of his personality, as conflicted and scattershot as that may be. Gyllenhaal brings a childlike enthusiasm to the character, but with absolutely no innocence or naivety. Calculating without being outright malicious, he genuinely makes the best of whatever hand he's dealt (well, the best for himself, at any rate). The opening of the film sees Louis embarking on a new chapter in his life, and like the supporting characters in the film, we never learn about the previous chapter(s). As far as Bloom is concerned, they don't exist.
As the story progresses and our anti-hero transforms himself from petty thief to media mastermind, he displays enough paradoxical traits (no remorse, though; never remorse) that the viewer isn't sure if Louis himself even knows who he really is, only who he wants to be. But how many of us couldn't help being summed up in exactly the same way?
You can't approve of Louis Bloom's ethics, aims or methodology, but you have to admire his tenacity.
"I believe that communicating your goals clearly is more important than trying to relay them in a non-confrontational manner…""
~ Louis Bloom, using the words that people in my office at work are going to wish I'd never heard.
Well, it's not as fast-paced as that trailer might suggest, but it nails pretty much every other aspect of the film, yes.
Yep.
Yep.
Worth paying to see at the flicks.
Maybe just a little; but I will ask you to explain why.
DISCLAIMERS:
• ^^^ That's dry, British humour, and most likely sarcasm or facetiousness.
• Yen's blog contains harsh language and even harsher notions of propriety. Reader discretion is advised.
• This is a personal blog. The views and opinions expressed here represent my own thoughts (at the time of writing) and not those of the people, institutions or organisations that I may or may not be related with unless stated explicitly.
Nightcrawler Cert: 15 / 117 mins / Dir. Dan Gilroy
A fast-talking, but ultimately unfocused loner, Louis Bloom ekes out a life as a petty thief and con-man, until one night he witnesses a road accident close-up and gets an idea of the money which can be made in selling first-shot footage of emergency and crime scenes to TV news networks. Armed only with a camcorder, police radio scanner and a fanatical determination, Louis quickly establishes a name for himself as the man behind some of TV's most gruesome reportage, and he soon discovers there's a fine line between being an early-witness to a scene and a late-participant. But when money and exclusivity dictate morality, those lines are hard to see in the Los Angeles night…
Typical, isn't it? You wait years for a film about a deranged fantasist who'll stop at nothing to manipulate everyone around them in the cold pursuit of an ever elusive goal, set against the backdrop of the worst aspects of US broadcast media… and then two come along at once. In many ways, Dan Gilroy's Nightcrawler is the perfect companion-piece to Gone Girl, but where Rosamund Pike's Amy leads the TV companies (among others) on a merry dance as an aid to her cause, Jake Gyllenhaal's Louisbecomes the media, in a deepening spiral of attention-seeking narcissism.
The film features an award-worthy performance from Gyllenhaal. The mania we see in the trailer is only a shadow of what's in the film, and Jake brings a complex performance to a single-minded character. There are hints that Louis has an undiagnosed learning disorder, and in the early part of the film is pretty much the only sympathetic trait for the audience to grasp. But his sociopathic personality almost renders that moot, and as the events in the film spiral worryingly well-within control, we're left simultaneously mesmerised and horrified, watching what's essentially the Scarface of rolling news.
For the supporting cast, Rene Russo gets her teeth into the role of Channel 6 news manager, Nina Romina, the source of Bloom's income and object of his manipulative affections. Riz Ahmed also shines as the nervous and put-upon Rick, general assistant and street-navigator in Louis's burgeoning enterprise. It's worth noting that pretty much all the other characters (crucially including Bill Paxton's rival nightcrawler, Joe) are reduced to background roles and stepping-stones, which is exactly how Louis sees them. As much of an astounding team-effort as this is, Nightcrawler really is Jake's film.
A story which picks you up with its sheer force of character and refuses to let go, Nightcrawler makes complicit, rubber-necked ghouls of us all. Not so much a cautionary tale, more a statement about where we are and how we got here; Dan Gilroy's film is perfect car-crash cinema, and for once that's a soaring compliment…
It points in the right direction; tonally, at least.
I did.
Pretty sure it does, yes.
Nightcrawler is visually dark as well as thematically, so it's pretty much designed to be watched in a darkened auditorium.
Maybe a little.
I will, indeed.
There ain't.
A bright red Camaro for stealth-reporting, though? I'm glad that got mentioned in the script, because it's what the rest of us had been thinking for about forty-five minutes…
DISCLAIMERS:
• ^^^ That's dry, British humour, and most likely sarcasm or facetiousness.
• Yen's blog contains harsh language and even harsher notions of propriety. Reader discretion is advised.
• This is a personal blog. The views and opinions expressed here represent my own thoughts (at the time of writing) and not those of the people, institutions or organisations that I may or may not be related with unless stated explicitly.
It's always nice when I can get three cinematic reviews of the same movie spread over three calendar months; if only because it shows that it's enjoying a good run*1. So tonight was the last showing of the The Dark World at my local, and as I was there for the first, I figured I'd see it off in brighter-than-I'm-used-to 2D, to shorten the gap until I can start devouring the extras on the BluRay. I also managed to drag along my brother-in-law tonight, who hadn't gotten round to watching it, so that I can compare his first reactions with my seasoned ones. This is why I'm a geek.
Watching the movie now, it actually holds up slightly better than it did when it had my fresh expectations burdening its shoulders. My gripes about the chief-villain aside, it's a very entertaining offshoot movie, showing us 'the stuff which happens between Avengers films'. I'm still of the feeling that the story itself lends itself more to a comic arc or novel, but there's no doubt that I'm getting more out of it on repeat viewings than I did for its predecessor. Maybe its because Thor spent most of its time introducing characters, whereas with TDW its welcome-reel is inserted (okay, clumsily) into the first twenty minutes. I don't think it's a better film, but in many ways it is more watchable; although I'm still hoping Kenneth Brannagh will return for a future Marvelverse installment.
Considering how outside-the-box The Dark World is compared to the rest of the Avengers canon, I can't wait to see audience reaction to Guardians of the Galaxy, next August…
For the record, bro-in-law thoroughly enjoyed it. More than I thought he would, actually. Although he was a bit put off by Greenwich being turned into a smoking pile of rubble. Which is fair enough.
I'd say so.
Mostly.
Not as much as I'd have liked..?
You're pretty much stuck with DVD/BRD now, which isn't the worst thing in the world.
No.
Yes.
Three times now, and I have to concede that I can't hear one. Bugger..
*1 Or just that it was released strategically towards the end of a month. Well okay, that.
Oh, and apparently I can (one for the people who saw the 'search description' field under the link on the way in).
DISCLAIMERS:
• ^^^ That's dry, British humour, and most likely sarcasm or facetiousness.
• Yen's blog contains harsh language and even harsher notions of propriety. Reader discretion is advised.
• This is a personal blog. The views and opinions expressed here represent my own thoughts (at the time of writing) and not those of the people, institutions or organisations that I may or may not be related with unless stated explicitly.
Thor: The Dark World (3D) (second-pass) (SPOILERS. LOTS.)
Cert: 12A / 112 mins / Dir. Alan Taylor
It almost pains me to use the word spoilers, because there really isn't that much to spoil. Other than the demise of the one character that Marvel could bear to let go of, of course (who, let's face it, can easily return in dreams, flashbacks and visitations anyway). The biggest problem (for me, at least) is that by the end of the film, not much has actually changed outside of the number of presents Thor has to buy at Christmas, and the addition of a new line on the London Underground network, whereby Charing Cross is three stops away from Greenwich*1. Any shakeups in Asgard and other adjacent realms are largely meaningless to the casual viewer as they were barely explored in the previous installment, and only fleetingly visited here. A villainous sect (with two named characters) is introduced and disposed of with clockwork efficiency, and Loki is once again prowling and scheming away (which comes as no great surprise, let's face it; that's what everyone wants him to do).
When it comes to the new additions of The Dark World, they leave much to be desired. Christopher Eccleston is given very little to do except walk around in a bad mood, and his character Malekith's aim seems too broad. He wants to destroy the universe. All of it. Why? …Plot Reasons™. There's no personal conviction or vendetta driving him, just an instinct to bring about destruction that he will presumably survive (even though it's not explained how. The Dark Elves were borne from the darkness remember, they can't exist if all the matter in the universe is destroyed).
And for the underwritten villains to prosper, they're going to need an underwritten method of destruction. Cue The Aether, which is essentially a wobbly, slightly more malevolent version of The Tesseract from Captain America. It's origin, intent and limitations are so shrouded in mystery that Anthony Hopkins can barely bring himself to explain it in his introductory voiceover; it just is. It's a capable enough plot device, albeit a little transparent.
Now, if you're still reading this and I haven't put you off completely, I should point out that this isn't what I was thinking during the film (even the second time around), these are just the thoughts I was left with afterwards. Thor: The Dark World is bloody good fun, and a must-see for fans of the Avengers series. Unfortunately, the preceding films have set the bar so high for me that this was bound to happen sooner or later. A bland macguffin and a directionless antagonist mean that while the film is a rollercoaster of destruction, there's never any sense of actual threat; evident in Marvel's apparent reluctance to kill off any of its named characters, which also removes any sense of consequence, too...
Outside of my moaning, I have some questions:
• If The Aether empowers Jane to the point where it defends her against the Asgardian guardsmen, why doesn't it use Jane malevolently as a vessel and start destroying everything around her before Malekith gets there?
• Moreover, if The Aether is 'conscious' within Jane, why can't she harness its powers to defend herself against Malekith? She'd knock him into a cocked hat, surely?
• We're told that the Aether's power is draining Jane's life-force, but other than her being a bit sleepy on the Asgardian gunboat, we get no indication of this. It doesn't even seem to affect her behaviour or attitude, other than her getting dark-eyes every so often and seeing visions of The Aether which impart no particular message to her. After The Aether is stolen back by Malekith, she tells Thor 'I saw him on Earth', so presumably she's been getting farsight glimpses that the haven't been shared with the audience? Why not, please?
• Why doesn't Malekith's extraction of The Aether kill Jane?
• Will someone just explain the point of The Aether to me, please?
Oh, and I had wondered about the significance of the Norman Emerson & Sons branded-truck used in the warehouse scene, but apparently there isn't any, it just looked good. So another Flight 5434 right there, then.
And outside of my questions, I spotted an easter-egg:
• I'd previously compared the final scenes of Thor to Revenge of the Sith. The SW references appear to continue in The Dark World with a lot of the ground-level shots of Asgard looking suspiciously like the prequel-era's Naboo (especially with Natalie gliding around in her wrap with a waterfall in the background), and with Thor losing his hand in battle (well, kinda, but we do see it). The best one though has got to be Jane's flat in London. When she's sitting moving her Shreddies around the bowl, there's a Star Wars calendar on the wall in the background, bearing this image of the Millennium Falcon in Hyperspace:
…I'm not sure if it's from a published calendar or just a one that the set designers knocked together as a joke. If you know for sure, give me a shout in the comments box, there...
Yeah.
I laughed and gasped.
Financially, undoubtedly. Artistically..?
Cinema. Big things getting smashed and looking big = good.
I shouldn't imagine so.
I will.
Didn't hear it, no, BUT let me know if you spotted one.
When Thor hangs Mjölnir on Jane's coat-rack, shouldn't it pull the peg/rack right off and then go plummeting through the floor? Wouldn't Thor's absent-mindedness and subsequent surprise/realisation be a better punchline to the comic moment than just casually hanging up the hammer in a domesticated manner?
*1 No, I'm not going to let that one go. To the point where I'm going to start a superhero-themed rock/metal band called 'Three Stops To Greenwich'. For reals.
DISCLAIMERS:
• ^^^ That's dry, British humour, and most likely sarcasm or facetiousness.
• Yen's blog contains harsh language and even harsher notions of propriety. Reader discretion is advised.
• This is a personal blog. The views and opinions expressed here represent my own thoughts (at the time of writing) and not those of the people, institutions or organisations that I may or may not be related with unless stated explicitly.
